Song of Anguish
by Tears I Cry
Summary: Sakura never thought it meant much, until she had a wake up call. Too bad it was already too late. Rated T for sexual reference. One shot. KakaSaku


AN: Hey everyone! This is my first story in a long, long time. It's been about 5 years since I last wrote any form of fanfiction. So please be kind. Inspired on semi-true events that recently happened to me. Hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters from Naruto.

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**Song of Anguish**

I was vaguely aware of the pitter patter of ice cover rain beating down atop my hooded head. My fingers had long past frozen over and were currently fixed in its tight grip around my bag containing a textbook I had just bought from the store. A hundred twenty and eighty nine cents. How ridiculously overpriced for one textbook.

_'Ah, not that it matters. Parents get the bill anyways'._

How long had I walked? My mind unconsciously starts drifting again. It's not like one of those cliche flashbacks where everything stops and moves back in time. In fact, I'm very much intact with reality; probably not as keening intact though.

_'Why?'_

I remember the same man walking ahead of me. Concentrating on how his shoes seemed to miraculously stay on his feet when clearly the laces where not anywhere near secured. Did we come from the same store? Were we both going back to the same apartment complex?

_'Hm. Why did she sound so hurt? Was it pity? Do I even know the difference?'_

The light was green, never even had to stop the steady - at least I think it was steady - pace I was walking. This music is annoying. Maybe I should turn off my iPod. Nah, too much effort. What was I thinking about? Ah, I've walked far already.

_'It's not like I care. We knew each other, sure. But it not like I care, should I?'_

I start to debate whether or not to take the shortcut. Another block to go. The man stops walking in front of the local bar swishing his head back and forth, left and right - watching the cars. Ah, so he lives in that apartment. Older classman. I decide to take the shortcut.

_'The message was short enough. Maybe I should call her back. Do I want to? Do I want to know?'_

Water droplets splash as my heel lands in the puddle I try to hop over. My pants probably got wet. A car reverses in front of me, I veer left to avoid. Another backs out too, veer more left. I step under the long overhang protecting the sketchy looking shops all chained together. I glance right, eyes following two men - are they from the academy? I glance left. Alcohol.

_'Do they know? I wonder how they reacted. Probably not like me.'_

As I cross the street, a car is moving. I take extra large steps and skip onto the pavement of the sidewalk. The car passes. I look ahead. It's empty. Oh, it's Friday. Another puddle blocks my path. I walk around it this time.

_'Shouldn't I be crying? No. I've gotten good at not crying.'_

The grass is soggy because of the melting ice from yesterday. What happened to my book? Right, backpack - forgot. The wind blows unkindly. Whatever, I'm practically there anyways. My keys make an entertaining jingle as they clink against each other.

_'It's not like it's a surprise. Of course it would happen. It's in the job description.'_

Mailbox is empty. Not even junk mail. I smell dango. Dango party, I remember now. My stomach makes a vibrating noise. Shut up. Keys in hand, I extend my right index finger and push the button. The little circle lights up. I look at the rectangular box displaying the number 4. An arrow pointing down pops up like magic next to it.

_'It's not like I'm happy either. Am I a bad person?'_

The familiar sound of "ding" makes me register to take three steps forward as the silver door slides left. Someone follows in behind me.

"What floor?" I push the button with 5 next to it. I hold my finger just above it.

"6th. Thanks."

I nod. Did I smile? Push the button to its right. The door closes. I look over. He's on a phone. Loses reception. Tries again just as the "ding" noise sails to my ears. I shift my right shoulder and my backpack moves to the center of my back. I look out the corner of my eye as I walk off. He doesn't look up.

_'But I like it better this way. You're not supposed to cry at my age. People make fun of you. Though, it's probably different in this case.'_

The keys jingle again as I switch to the right key. It's the other gold one - the normal looking key, not like the one for the mailbox. It slides in and I twist left. The handle turns with it and I use my wrist to push open the door. It's not dark, but the lights are off. Some of the outside light streams in through the window - it's gray. I turn my body and twist my wrist back to the right and slide the key out. My foot's holding the door open and the shadow made by the hall light looks funny. I release and the door swings closed. I use my thumb and index finger and lock the knob. Again, to the deadbolt.

A sigh escapes. My right foot holds the left's heel as I slide my foot out. I do the same with the other. My back pops as I bend. I place the shoes in the closet - neatly - force of habit. The closet door folds shut. I shrug, first my left arm, out of my backpack and fall to the couch. It's warm inside.

_'When was the last time I cried anyways? Years. That's for sure.'_

My fingers clasp around the metal zipper and I pull downward. The winter jacket comes off and I lay on my side - eyes facing the television. Eyes moving across the room, the remote's too far.

_'It shouldn't have happened this way. I wonder how it happened. Why?'_

I wrack my memory. Trying to remember. When was the last time we talked? Touched? Laughed?

_'Cry. Cry, dammit. Prove to yourself you're human.'_

A tear leaks from my right eye. I smile triumphantly. It grows bigger and I let out a single syllable laugh. Now the tears accumulate and I let out another laugh to make them stop. They overflow. I use my sleeved backhand and wipe them away. I sniffle back in the mucus I feel in my nose. It travels down my throat.

The sudden ring of my phone makes me jump. I grip my phone and look down at the caller I.D. - Naruto. I swallow mucus once more and breathe a shaky breath of air. I hold it in.

"Hello?"

"...Sakura..."

Of course. Why else would he call for? Is that pity too? Or sadness?

I let out the breath I was holding as I reply, "Hi."

I hold it again.

"...You...okay...?" His voice was so soft I was glad no one else was there. Oh, how ironic.

I had to breathe. I pull the phone away from my face and turn in the opposite direction as I inhale beautiful oxygen. I hope he didn't hear. Just as quickly, I bring my face and phone back together and answer, "Naruto, I'm...fine. Really." I didn't sound convincing. Even I was convinced.

"Do you want me to come-"

"NO!" I quickly cursed myself for my outburst. "No. It's fine. I'm fine." I could feel a lump getting caught in my throat. I was getting too emotionally unstable too fast.

"Listen, Naruto. I've...got to go...do something." What an obvious lie.

"But Sakur-"

"Okay, bye." I hung up as my voice cracked on its own accord.

I slumped further into the couch and let the tears fall freely now. It couldn't be true. Not possible. I sluggishly force my legs to pull myself up and trudge toward the closet. "My" closet as I liked to call it. But right now, I'm glad it's not only mine. Not since last year when we were both so drunk and woke up with hangovers, naked, in my bed. I step past the boxes containing my underwear, bras, socks; move past the shirts folded neatly on top each other; past the jackets hanging in order of their color. I step all the way to the back of the closet - to the back corner that I couldn't rightfully say held only my clothes.

My hands moved on their own. Toward the edges of my shirt, lifting it over my head. Then moving to the hemming of my pants and dipping downward until they were a pool around my socked feet. I kicked them away - over to my side. I stared. At least, I tried. Damn water blocked most of my vision.

Reaching out, I used my right hand and gripped the black shirt. I didn't move. My head hung down, staring at my socks, my weight supported by the hand latched on to the shirt.

_'Look at me, always depending on you.'_

My eyes closed and snapped back open as I lifted the shirt and pulled it over my head. Delicately, as if it would break. I knew I would scoff at the idea later on. The smell engulfed my entire being. The sweet, musky smell of a summer's thunder storm that was distinctly his.

My thoughts drifted back to the message Tsunade-sama had left on my phone only hours ago. Her voice so clear in my mind it was as though we were sitting across from each other in her office. I could imagine her face and the wrinkles that formed as she spoke. The ones around her eyes and her mouth as she frowned. She wouldn't cry - after all, she's not allowed to. Her voice was soft, but never waivered. I thought back and let her words replay in my mind.

"Sakura, I'm sorry. Kakashi...Kakashi is gone."

Only then. Only then did I let the closet walls hear my song of anguish.


End file.
